


Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder

by NikkiJustTalk



Category: BBC Merlin, Merlin - Fandom
Genre: Canon-Era, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Scarring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-23
Updated: 2012-04-23
Packaged: 2017-11-04 04:52:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 20,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/389937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikkiJustTalk/pseuds/NikkiJustTalk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Merlin's is horribly scarred on a hunting trip, it's up to Arthur to pick him up and dust him off, but trying to be the Once and Future King and the Once and Future friend isn't as easy as it sounds...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So...I was ridiculously over-excited to be joining Archive of Our Own so yay for the invite, and yeah hope you enjoy it :)

Today, Arthur was nervous. Very nervous. More nervous than he had ever been since Merlin had known him, and this was clear from the minute he entered the room.

Arthur was pacing up and down in front of the window in his nightclothes, stopping every so often to take a deep breath or two, before carrying on pacing. He barely even glanced up when his servant entered the room, but was still able to bark 'Merlin! Where have you been, you useless article?'

Knowing full well that he was in fact early on that particular morning, Merlin decided to humour him; 'sorry, sorry, I was helping to set up the Banquet Hall for tonight. It's certainly impressive, must be someone important' he said cheerily.

Whipping round to face him, Arthur hissed 'Important! I told you yesterday, this isn't just 'important', this meeting could revolutionise Camelot, and its future! If King Boltor signs the Treaty, we get access to world trade, foreign goods and industry from across the continent! This could even…'

'Yeah, yeah, yeah, I remember now, food, money…other…fun…stuff. So! Shall we get you dressed then? Can't have you greeting our Lord and Master in your nightclothes'

As the dinner began, Merlin started his journey, pouring water into the knight's goblets and wine into the Kings', stopping only to talk when spoken to and spending most of the meal behind Arthurs chair with strict instructions to cause a suitable distraction if the conversation turned sour. Arthur would then harshly berate him, displaying his authority and power to his guest, and then laugh about it with Merlin in his chambers later that night.

Listening in closely, Merlin heard Boltor guffaw loudly and chuckle 'My God, Arthur. You do remind me of your father so. I was utterly devastated when I heard the news' Arthurs shoulders stiffened slightly, and whilst Merlin inched closer to his friend, he said 'Yes. Well. It was most unfortunate, but have you seen…' 'But really', the King leaned in 'what happened? Was there really nothing you could do?' 'It was an attack, my Lord, impossible to prepare for. I mean, no one saw this coming'.

Those seated around the pair glanced over at hearing the strain in Arthur's voice, and Boltor narrowed his cold, grey eyes. 'But you have heard the rumours of course' 'Rumours no' 'It is said, in the alleyways that run between your kingdom and mine that the tragic circumstances of your father's death were not entirely an accident. That it was in fact a ploy for the crown, a plot conceived by members of Camelot, sworn to secrecy. A plan followed through by their 'beloved' Prince Arthur' his sentenced ended with a hiss, and glancing around to look at his fellow dinners, his neutral smile would've given the impression that their conversation had been a simple one of weather or work, but Arthurs cheeks had turned scarlet with rage and his eyes burnt with a deep look of loathing.

Shaking slightly with fury, Merlin saw Arthur open his mouth to speak, but before he could there was a great clang as metal jug hit stone floor and Merlin stood, empty handed, feigning shock at the mess he created and successfully distracting the diners.

'You idiot boy, look what you've done!' King Boltor boomed at him.

Bowing his head, he muttered 'Forgive me Your Highnesses, My Lady' he nodded to Gwen and sank to his knees to clean up the wine. 'For goodness sake, you've gotten wine on my finest boots! Dratted boy! I shall expect these cleaned by morning, unless you are thrown in the stocks beforehand!' Boltor snarled, kicking Merlin's hand lightly with his foot.

Arthur, who had done nothing apart from turn in shock, suddenly threw out a hand to Boltor's chest, preventing him from harming Merlin further and said 'Thrown in the stocks? Forgive me, my Lord but that hardly seems an acceptable punishment for a servant of the palace. What sort of reputation would that give us? No, here in Camelot we deal out reprimands as discreetly as we can, and as fairly as we can. A night in the dungeons should serve him right, without dragging the public into our personal affairs'.

Arthur had spoken so evenly, it was almost as if the previous conversation had never happened, and satisfied with this punishment, Boltor turned away, just as Merlin said 'Thank you, Arthur' and stood up holding the sodden rag which had once been his favourite scarf.

There was a pause before 'I'm sorry, what did you just say?' Paling rapidly as he realised his mistake, he faced Boltor and whispered 'I'm sorry, Your Highness'.

Arthur groaned internally and, knowing what he had to do, turned to his friend and shouted 'How dare you! How dare you speak the King of Camelot as if I were a common peasant! As if I was your friend! You're a liar and lousy servant! Come with me!' Arthur's fist gripped around his shirt collar led him out of the hall and into a deserted corridor, where suddenly Merlin was forced up against a wall, almost nose to nose with his friend.

'Now listen' he snarled 'I know you think that you're my friend, my only friend, because you save my life once in a while but right now YOU'RE NOT! I AM A KING AND SHOULD BE TREATED LIKE ONE! ESPECIALLY TONIGHT! YOU'RE A WORTHLESS SERVANT WHO NEVER DOES AS YOU'RE TOLD AND YOU'RE LUCKY I HAVEN'T SACKED YOU BY NOW! IF I LOSE THIS DEAL BECAUSE YOU, I SWEAR TO GOD MERLIN! NOW GET BACK INSIDE AND BEHAVE YOURSELF!'

With this, Arthur swept back into the hall, breathing heavily, leaving Merlin to push himself off the wall and mentally shake himself as he tried to figure out what had just happened. He'd thought Arthur was pretending in the hall, selling himself to the King but…Arthur rarely shouts, and he never shouts at Merlin. Sniffing slightly and wiping his face, he forced himself back into the hall, and back into his routine but pointedly standing behind Percival's chair, instead of Arthurs, for the continuation of the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The missing servant...

The following morning Arthur had planned a tour of the castle for his guest and had previously told Merlin to take the morning off so when the servant arrived in the Banquet Hall to  
help clear up, his Arthur-free morning was immediately taken advantage of by the KIT.

The KIT was a group of boys in their late teens, all of whom wished to join Arthur's knights in the future, but lacked both experience and skill, so, once a week they were trained in swordsmanship, archery and riding, hence the nickname 'Knights in Training'. However, they maybe young but all of them were annoyingly cocky and overly-confident, always pushing for harder training and pleading with Arthur to allow them on quests.

He always said no of course, but with the King being otherwise occupied, the boys had decided that on this particular morning they would go hunting and prove themselves as men.

'No'. The boys groaned in response and said 'Oh come on Merlin, mate' 'You'd do it for Arthur' 'Yeah, we need someone to carry the birds!' 'You've done it before!' 'Arthur's busy all  
morning, what else have you got to do?'

Casting a withering glare at them, Merlin snapped 'I don't just exist to please Arthur, you know!'  
'No' grinned a tall boy with fair hair 'you exist to please us too! Oh go on, please!' Merlin sighed loudly and said 'Fine'. 

'Yes! Nice one, Hamish!' 'Cheers, Merlin!'

Hamish sniffed and said briskly 'good, meet us by the stables in half an hour. You need to show us how to saddle the horses'. 

With that they all dispersed leaving a groaning Merlin to clear the remainder of the plates from his table.

 

After a gruelling start to the day, Merlin was actually quite surprised at how much he was enjoying being out in the fresh air, amongst the trees. 

His company, however, was not so impressed; 'It's bloody freezing! Where are all the rabbits and stuff?'

'Thought we'd have caught something by now'

'When can we go back to the castle?'

Once again Hamish stood forward and said 'Oh do stop complaining, you're worse than children. I'm sure Prince Arthur never whined like this, did he Merlin?' 

Reeling back slightly from the haughty look aimed at him, Merlin gave a non-committal 'mmm' and carried on walking. After spending over 3 hours with these boys (1 of which had been spent teaching them how to actually walk quietly, so as not to frighten to animals instead of blundering like cavemen), it had become an annoying,unspoken rule that any questions or stories about Arthur had become linked to him, and he was a little sick of it.

Yes, he spent more time with him than they did, but what did he know? He's just a servant. Not a friend. Not a companion, just someone to boss around all the time.

Someone to big him… 'Shhhhhh!'

'What is it, Daniel?' 

'Be quiet, I can hear something!' A low rustling had begun to drift through the trees and the boys immediately stilled and silenced.

There was a tense pause before 'ATTACK!'

Armed men were streaming from behind the trees, shouting to each other as they ran towards them, drawing swords and weapons as they ran, herding the boys  
and Merlin into a huddle in the clearing. But the boys had been taught by the best and their natural instinct to fight kicked in and within moments a battle had broken out. Merlin,  
having no weapon to hand had no choice other than to run, dodging arrows and blades as he went but suddenly 'arghh!'  
An elbow to the stomach left him lurched on the ground, back flat against the hard earth as he tried to regain his breath, crowded by a sea of fast paced feet, men and boys dancing around each other's weapons, too busy to notice him sprawled by their ankles.

But surely someone will notice, they'll move out of the way at least, he thought. 

However, it took him a few moments to remember who he was fighting alongside, or rather who he wasn't.   
These boys defended themselves, not each other, leaving him more vulnerable than ever. 

Suddenly a blade caught his eye, but it wasn't poised to attack an enemy, it was poised above his face and was being brought down…hard.

 

As Arthur slammed the door to his chambers he let out a weary sigh and threw his jacket onto the bed. 

It had been a very long morning. First he had to dress himself at a ridiculously early time, then spend the next 3 hours traipsing round the castle with King Boltor, who seemed only fit to discuss gold, politics and worst of all, useless servants, the latter doing nothing of which to ease Arthurs guilt about berating Merlin yesterday. He knew that Merlin had dropped the jug to distract him, and he knew that the name issue was a complete accident. The servant was usually quite disciplined in front of guests; perhaps he was nervous as well.

Suddenly, his stomach rumbled loudly and drew him out of his thoughts, only to find 'George? What …um…what are you doing here? Where's Merlin?' 

George shuffled forward, pushing him into a seat and saying 'Well I believe, your Highness, you told him to take the morning off'.

Giving a strained smile, Arthur said 'Yes. I know that bit, but where is he now?'

'Oh, 'I believe he was taken hunting by your young knights, Sire. They left rather early actually; we had expected them back by now'

'Ahh don't worry about it' Arthur waved a lazy hand at George, focussing instead on the large plate of food in front of him 'These hunting trips can last all day. He'll be back soon'  
Looking pointedly at George to leave, he settled down to eat his lunch in peace and worry about Merlin later.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Facing up to his face...

Later came rather sooner than expected and Arthur had already sent men to ask if anyone had seen them when Gwen burst into the room. 'Arthur! Arthur, have you heard?' 

Sighing, he replied 'Yes, I've heard, Merlin's gone missing again…' It was at this point when he noticed her pale, stricken face; 'Gwen, what's…' 

'Oh Arthur, I'm so sorry, I…'

With a sick feeling starting to build in the pit of his stomach he rose and walked over to wife; 'Tell me what happened. Now' He hadn't meant to sound so angry, but right now he didn't care. 

'Gaius' hut. I'll come with you'

The walk through the castle had been tortuous. It seemed everyone else knew what had happened, except him. They passed him sympathetic looks and muffled gasps as he stalked  
through the corridors. Why hadn't he been told that Merlin had been found? How did the servants know of his fate, instead of him? Bursting through the wooden door, with Gwen  
ushering him upstairs, his heart began to quicken. 

Before he opened the door to Merlin's room, he paused slightly on the stairs, glancing at his wife with a badly repressed flash of fear flitting across his face. It might have even been a look of loss, but in that heartbeat, Arthur knew that he would've sold his soul rather than face the boy in the room. Gwen eased past him and tapped on the door. She turned towards him and stepped back, allowing him to see past her.

He saw the white sheet on the bed

he saw the tips of black hair on the pillow

he saw the stillness of the body

he saw Gaius kneeling beside it

and then he saw nothing at all.

 

When he woke up again, he was slouched in a chair by the fire, with a damp cloth to his forehead and muffled voices echoing around the room. '…worried he may never see again, but  
we'll worry about that later...' ,'I can't believe they didn't tell Arthur sooner, they just left him in the courtyard!' 

Blinking slightly, he mumbled 'left who there?' and as the two other occupants in the room turned to him suddenly,  
it all came flooding back.  
The fight, the hunting trip, the loss, and he hurtled himself out of his chair and up the stairs. 

He had to know, he had to make sure that he wasn't… 

'Merlin?' his voice seemed to have shrunk drastically and he tried again 'Merlin!' 

There was a slight pressure on his arm and he heard Gaius whisper 'Arthur, he's sleeping. Let him be, we need to talk to you'. Allowing himself to be pulled back downstairs and into the chair, he batted away his wife's fussing hands and said 'Merlin's gone.'   
There was a horrible dullness to his voice that, even in his own head, sounded so utterly without hope, that at first he didn't even realize he'd said it.

Gaius and Gwen glanced at each other for a moment before the latter said softly 'No. He isn't.'

'You're lying. I saw the sheet, he…he wasn't moving! I SAW IT!' his voice had raised now into an anguished wail, and he felt like a child, screaming nonsense at anyone who would listen but nobody was listening because no one understood.

'No'. This was a firmer voice. 'He's not dead, but he is gravely injured.' And there it was. That tiny glimmer of hope, dancing like a light in front of his eyes.

No. Not dead. He's sleeping. Not dead means alive. Alive means living. But gravely injured means... 'how badly injured?' 

He heard the doctor sigh slightly and say 'Arthur, it's not a simple injury. It's not a grazed knee, or a bumped head. It's a scar. Or it's going to be one anyway'.

 

Merlin felt himself drifting in and out of consciousness as he lay on the cold ground. He wanted to wake up and he willed himself to do so but there was something forcing his eyes shut and pressing down upon his head, stopping him from focussing. 

He heard a boy cry 'No, Merlin!' and for a moment he wondered who Merlin was.   
What had happened to Merlin?  
Then he remembered, and then he slept.

 

With a spinning head, Arthur made to get up out of his chair again, but this time both his companions held him there, saying 'You've had a big shock, don't go over exciting yourself  
again.'

'Gaius, I would hardly call this exciting! Arthur, Merlin isn't dead. Just remember that. He's still because he's sleeping. Just dreaming'. Gwen had taken him by the shoulders and shaken him like a frightened child, which, he knew he wasn't, but something inside him was shrinking into infancy, hiding from the big bad wolves in the big bad world of the grown ups. 

Suddenly he found his voice again. 'Why is he covered with a sheet?' 

The old doctor looked at him for a second before saying 'for dignity. The cuts run right across his face and are incredibly deep. He's lucky to have survived considering the amount of blood he lost. Whether he sees this as a good thing, though, is an entirely different matter. He'll be in a lot of pain, and there's no guarantee that the cuts did not affect his sight.'

'No.' Arthur declared stubbornly 'Merlin's life will always be a good thing. No matter what'. 

When nothing but silence produced a retort, he sank back into his chair, a thousand mutilated versions of Merlin's pale face reeling through his head.

Then came the loud crash from upstairs. It seemed that silence wanted to argue with him after all...


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Drop the wounded cub act Merlin, it's only a scratch...'

He looked at himself for the hundredth time in the mirror since he woke up, but the reflection never changed. The large cut running diagonally down his face and through his eye always remained, stubborn as ever, the smaller one too; cutting through his lower lip and chin, hot red and burning. It was agony to the touch and his head was pounding from the pain. He wanted to sleep again, to forget it all, to be lost in black unconsciousness, but he couldn't.  
Last time he fell asleep, he woke up with his face sliced in two and only one working eye. 

Suddenly he heard noises down stairs, a scuffle then soothing words and as he turned to them, he knocked the mirror off its nail and it fell to the floor with a crash.

'Merlin?' 

Hearing his name, he dove back into bed, cradling his broken face and shielding it with his blankets. With a loud bang, his door swung open and hit the wall behind it, causing  
the bed to rattle slightly.

The King had arrived.

 

Arthur stood in the doorway for a few seconds before the others caught up with him, but before they could say anything, he held them back slightly with his arm. Merlin was curled up tightly in a ball under his blankets, with a small pool of blood on the pillow behind him and his heavy breathing echoing throughout the room. 

With a hesitant 'Merlin?' Arthur moved towards the bed, reaching out a hand to his friend when suddenly a strained voice cut through the room.

'I apologise for this inconvenience, your Highness, but I'm afraid I shall be unable to work for several weeks.' 

The sentence was spoken with cold and purposeful tone, catching in the Kings throat before he could speak again. Even speaking must have been painful for him. When no one else moved or spoke, Merlin continued 'Sire, if you wouldn't mind, I am in no fit state to entertain today but thank you for stopping by. I shall give you full notice when I plan to return to work, but now I would like some rest'.

Arthur simply stood there, staring at the lump of scarily obedient servant and pitifully thin blanket before Gwen grasped her husband's arm again to pull him out of the room and reluctantly he followed. 

Leaning back against Merlin's closed door, he let out a long breath and said quietly 'He didn't use my name'. A small, sad sigh escaped his lips and he made to leave before any more girly nonsense could fall out of them, but his friend's voice from inside the room stopped him.

 

'Get rid of it'.

Gaius looked sadly at the boy and tried 'Merlin, I…'

'Please Gaius! You can use a potion or powder, I'll take anything you give me, just get rid of it!'

'I can't! It's too raw at the moment for any treatment but I promise you when it's healed fully, I'll take another look. Right now, all I give you is something for the pain, and prescribe rest. You need your sleep.' 

Merlin looked up dolefully with his one good eye and whispered 'please…' After laying a warm, sympathetic hand on the boys shoulder, Gaius turned away from Merlin and headed to the door but stopped with his hand on the door knob. 'Oh, and stop sulking about Arthur. It won't heal your eye, and it won't help Arthur's heart so stop being a child and talk to him'. 

Merlin gave a frustrated cry and threw himself under the blankets again. He knew he was being childish but in his eyes or eye in this case, he was only doing as previously instructed and if Arthur didn't like it, he shouldn't ask for it! 

The door opened again, and he whined 'Gaius, please leave me alone! I know you want to help but until you can find something to sew my face back together, I really don't care!' 

But the answer he received was not the one he'd expected.

 

'Oh stop whining you big baby. It's me, Arthur, so you can drop the wounded cub act, it's only a scratch, I'm sure you've faced worse…' he sentence hung in the air for a second as he took in the sight before him. 

At the word 'scratch' Merlin had spun round to face him,like an angry cat, and in doing so, revealed the wound across his pale face. 

It was…horrific, for lack of a better word. 

The cut was deep and bloody, impossible to bandage without leaving him blind and impossible to ignore without risking infection. He didn't look like Merlin anymore. He looked angry and sharp, like a demon fresh from battle, and would've been frightening aside from the tear rolling down his left cheek and splashing into his lap. The boy wrapped his arms around his knees and curled up on the bed, still facing Arthur in defiance. 

Arthur remembered telling him once about his first battle wound, and how proud he was to receive it, but this wasn't fair.  
This wasn't just or something to be celebrated. He wasn't even there to protect him. Battles are only battles when Merlin is still fighting.  
When he falls, the war falls and Arthur is lost.

Softly he muttered 'Oh Merlin, you stupid idiot'. 

Sitting down on the bed, he tried to look him in the eye, but it felt so patronising and crippling, he just continued to talk; 'what made you want to go hunting with those prats anyway? You don't even like going with me! What happened out there?'


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making amends? Maybe not...

Now that the wound had started to seal itself up, it grew increasingly difficult to talk, so his conversation was strained but he knew the exact four words he wanted to say; 'Surprise attack, your Highness'. 

Gritting his teeth together Arthur spat 'Oh stop it Merlin! You never call me your Highness, you barely even said it in front of my father when he was King, and I've always been Arthur, just Arthur to you. You've always been my…' he faltered, looking to Merlin as if for guidance but instead he received 'I'm your servant, Sire. To honour and obey until the day I die.'

He spoke as if it were the simplest answer in the world, as if Arthur were a child in need of reassurance, like Gwen had done earlier. It would've sounded polite, if not for the accompanying winces at every other word. 

There was a tense silence before 'Ok, fine. You're just a servant. You never make me laugh, or risk your life for me. You never spend whole nights on end perfecting speeches for me, you never protect me from enchantments, you never tell me the blunt truth, you never insist that I do the right thing and you're never there for me when I need you. That sounds about right, doesn't it, boy?'

He knew what Merlin was trying to do from the first word he said, from the night in the hall when he stood behind Percival's chair. He was trying to spite him. Doing exactly what  
Arthur said to unnecessary lengths and dismissing their friendship to prove him wrong. And he'd walked right into it.  
He'd ended up shouting at him, shouting all the things he did for him, what he didn't need to do but did, and all the things he never should've done for him, but still wanted to anyway. And he needed to apologise.

'Merlin, I know that you know that I'm a King and I will always be a King until I'm killed, so I can't have friends. I have servants; I have a sibling and I have a wife. The closest things I have to friends are my Knights, and even they had to fight me for it. But they're not my friends. I'm not allowed them.' 

Merlin sat up in his bed and said 'Yes I know, you've told me on countless occasions that we're not friends and I never said I wanted to be, Sire' he emphasised the last word snidely to make his point but Arthur just sighed and said 'No. You don't understand what I'm saying! I'm not allowed friends, but I am allowed family. A family has few boundaries. A family has a dedication to one another. A family is always there. Don't you see Merlin? I'm the King. I choose my family. And now, I choose you. You're far too skinny to be a knight, and as well as the fact that you are a horrible servant, you're too ill at the moment to do any proper work for me so…'

Merlin's icy exterior evaporated suddenly, leaving him whining petulantly; 'No, Arthur don't! Just, please, don't take pity on me. That's the last thing I want! I don't even know how that would work! Your family is so great and powerful and you know, rich, I doubt all your far-flung cousins and allies would take to a simple serving boy with big ears joining the house of Pendragon!' 

Arthur snorted slightly and said 'And when have I ever cared what they think?'

Merlin raised an eyebrow in a startlingly well-rehearsed impression of Gaius at the exclamation.

'Fine, look I'm not suggesting we adopt you or anything…'

'Nope! No way! Sorry but just…no!' Gwen suddenly forced her way into the room and stood in the doorway staring at her husband defiantly. 'Arthur, dear, I know how much you love Merlin…' At this both men spluttered and started where they sat 'But there is no way I am passing him off as my…' she gulped suddenly in horror '…son!'

There was a soft chuckle from downstairs as Gaius caught the end of the conversation and proceeded to make his way up the wooden staircase.

Sighing, the King said 'Alright, calm down! Like I said, I don't want to adopt Merlin. Despite popular opinion he is actually a fully grown man with the ability to look after himself' he broke off and looked at Gaius entering the room 'well…sort of. It's just...' he turned back towards his servant, hands spread honestly in front of him 'you've become far too involved in the Kingdom and Court to be running off with bored knights at every opportunity and I refuse to let my personal aid share his valued skills with any other, less deserving Kings. Both Albion and I owe you a great deal. You are a good man, and will serve me well'. 

Despite snarling slightly at the words 'valued skills', Arthur had spoken both clearly and earnestly but unfortunately for Merlin, it just wasn't enough.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rehearsing the retake takes time, you know?

Even through the muffling off his blanket, the pompous tone rang out in Arthur's voice and his words just lacked empathy and motion.  
Then he remembered why.

'Well…' Merlin said, shrugging off his blankets and emerging from the bed, ignoring Gwen's horrified gasp as she took in his battle scarred face and Gaius' feeble attempt to support him when standing; 'that really was a very touching speech'. 

Looking thoroughly confused by Merlin's sarcastic sentencing, Arthur frowned 'Merlin…' 

'No, no, you carry on. Tell me how I've been a loyal friend to you over the years. Tell me how I've protected the kingdom. Tell me, please, in exact detail, how my courage and bravery are that of twenty men and that all peoples of Albion should bow down as I walk!' he spat the last few words at the King, then, rather anti-climatically, he thought, sank down in exhaustion onto his mattress. 

His face was snide and venomous through his wound, the scarlet scar across his lip stretching as he spoke, contrasting sharply with the splashes of unmarred skin, pale and slightly sweat sheened in fury and pain.

'You said it yourself, My Lord. I write all of your speeches. And it just so happens that I remember every word I write.'

Recognition was forcing its way across his companions face as they too re-called the very same speech Arthur used in last year's Knighting ceremony.   
The very same speech Merlin had spent 3 days perfecting before finally handing it over with a beaming smile and a smug 'there you go'.   
And the very same speech Arthur had just forced upon his best friend.

There was a moment of silence and he knew that he was expected to apologise, and was opening his mouth to do so with enthusiasm and pained grace, when his late father's voice rang out in the back of his mind; 'Arthur, you must remember, a good King will never apologise. He will regret the course of action taken, but the blame will never lie fully with him'. 

So he simply snapped his mouth shut, drew his shoulders back and said crisply 'I regret if my words have caused offence, Merlin. I should've chosen them more carefully. Now, I   
shall expect to see you back at work as soon as you are able. Both I and Guinevere will be awaiting your return'.   
He looked slightly to the left of the boy on the bed, trying vehemently hard not to wince at his torn face; 'Forgive me, I must return to my duties'. 

The air in the already darkened room shifted and Merlin's usually cheerful face was hardened in anger at being treated so carelessly. 'Very well, Sire' he practically spat, but Arthur had already turned and swept out of the door, grabbing his wife by the arm and dragging her out as well. 

As soon as they were well out of earshot, a more manly groan tumbled out of the King's mouth as Gwen spun him round to face her; 'Would it really have been so hard just to say sorry? Or to actually think of something so say rather than have Merlin think of it all for you? I know that as your Queen I am supposed to support you but as a wife I am ashamed of you. I, of all people, know how much he means to you. You've wanted him to be part of the family for ages and don't you even try and deny it!'   
Gwen continued her rant until they'd reached the cool sanctity of the castle where she had the grace to restrain herself in front of the knights before stalking off to her chambers, with a firm 'goodnight my Lord' and a flourished flounce through the door.

Arthur loved his wife very much, and she truly was an incredible woman, but since her coronation, Gwen had blossomed into a figure of confidence and moral, unafraid to speak her mind when necessary, especially against Arthur, and although it pained him to think it; she was becoming more and more like Morgana with every passing day.

But the Morgana he knew.  
The woman close enough to be his sister with a mischievous smile and good heart, who spoke out against the King in defence of the people, her people and damned each and  
every consequence dealt out to her.   
Sometimes, just sometimes, Arthur will walk round a corner and catch sight of a purple train sweeping out of sight or the scent of her perfume lingering in the air, or he'll walk into the throne room and raise a hand in greeting to his father before faltering and dropping it swiftly back to his side, glancing round in embarrassment. 

He'd never admit it to anyone but Merlin, but he misses the days of banquets and feasts and parties, where his place was by the Kings side, rather than in his seat, when his thoughts were of eating instead of meeting and greeting. Everything had changed these past few years. Nothing was safe.   
Even a simple hunting trip could turn into a battlefield at the slightest turn. 

His father used to tell him that nothing stays the same forever, but, Arthur thought with a smirk, he obviously doesn't know Merlin Emrys. 

He could be the King or the Court Jester and Merlin would still be there, holding his hand and cleaning his boots.  
As he dragged his feet through the corridors to his room, leaving Guinevere to vent unto her maid, he allowed his thoughts to drift to the future; to Camelot in 50 years. He wanted to believe, more than anything, that Merlin would be there somewhere, hair thin and grey, eyes tired and face worn, sat next to a stubbornly overweight and bearded Arthur, guiding him until the very end. 

Lost in his own head, he sank into his chambers with a heavy sigh and lay face down on the bed, asleep in seconds.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Gwaine, A Gwen and A Cat that Just Won't Talk...

Merlin, however, wasn't so lucky. Having spent most of his evening in a vicious cycle of 'rant about Arthur, upset scar, whine to Gaius and then blame Arthur again' he ought to be  
exhausted but he had a slight fever and was therefore utterly unable to get comfortable.   
Lying face down in his pillow was obviously out of the question but rolling onto his side seemed to heat him up more than anything and facing the ceiling gave him far too much access to the cool breeze drifting in through the ill-fitted window. 

'Stupid Arthur, stupid speeches, clot head, dollop pole, no wonder Kings aren't allowed friends, they'd all end up trying to kill them anyway…' he muttered angrily, throwing back his covers moodily.

'It's his own fault really, I mean, what sort of person forgets how to talk for themselves? And he calls me dim! I bet he won't even realise what he's done! I'll just go back to work and he'll say something like 'oh enjoy your holiday, Merlin?' Or he'll be there whining because he stubbed his toe on a cupboard or something and expect me to kiss it better and feel sorry for him! You know, whoever decided that having a 'King' was a good idea should be hung! Completely unnecessary! I bet I could run the country and still make time for at least one friend!' 

Merlin paused for breath before suddenly looking at his surroundings and realising that he had apparently stomped right out of the castle without even a pair of shoes on, and was now hurling abuse at a bored looking cat slumped against a wall. The cat in question just blinked sleepily at him before yawning and burying its head in its paws for a nap. 

Merlin gave a huff of 'oh fine, suit yourself then' and he would've continued to mutter until a loud chuckle behind him forced him to freeze in mortification, a chuckle with an accompanying; 'you know, Merlin, they say that talking to yourself is the first sign of madness. But talking to a cat…that's gotta be a close second' Gwaine laughed, stepping out of   
the shadows, tankard in hand and with a decisive wobble in his step.

The knight took a sloppy swig and proceeded to swagger over to his friend, still laughing at the absurdity of the situation.

'So, do you want to tell me why you're stood out here, shouting at a sleeping cat, or do you want me to guess? Because if it were up to me, I'd probably say that Arthur's gone and got himself turned into a…Jesus!'

Merlin had stood stock still as Gwaine spoke to him, but at the word 'Arthur' he had rotated, causing light from a nearby torch to spill across his face, illuminating his wounds so violently that Gwaine nearly stumbled back at the sight of the them. Merlin stood, breathing heavily in the cool air, waiting tensely for his friend to react, and hopefully to say something more comforting than 'Jesus'. 

He was immediately disappointed; 'Blimey, mate, and I thought the troll looked bad!' 

Merlin's jaw dropped as far as it could without hurting and the outrage must have shown as seconds later Gwaine was saying 'No, no , mate…I just…Jesus!' 

Scowling, Merlin said 'yeah, I got that bit'

'What happened? I mean, I heard the young'uns got attacked on the hunt but…' 

Having been so busy shouting at Arthur and about Arthur, Merlin realised that he hadn't actually explained what'd happened in the woods….yet.

 

Upon fully assessing Gwaine's total alcohol intake, an in depth conversation about personality over appearance seemed out of the question so half escorting, half dragging the man back to his quarters, Merlin had agreed to wake him to following morning to explain; which is how he found himself sat awkwardly on the edge of his friends bed, wincing as the sound of retching from outside reached his ears.   
He'd left the castle relatively early to avoid accidently bumping, which was more likely than usual with only one decent eye, into anyone he knew and had shrunk into his hooded cloak at the mere sight of a lone guard. He wasn't ready to face the world yet; he could barely face himself. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a now fully sober and slightly pale looking Gwaine stumbling in through the door, clutching his head and throwing himself into a chair by the fire.  
Roaming his tired eyes over Merlin;s face, he seemed to reach an internal decision to listen first and whine later, ignoring the steady throbbing of his skull and the obnoxious sunlight streaming through his window.

'So, are we going to sit here all day or are you going to tell me what happened?' 

Merlin took a deep breath, and suddenly everything he'd been holding in since the attack sprang forth from his sore lips in a jumble of fear and adrenaline; 'Well the Knights in Training wanted me to go hunting with them, and I said no but then they forced me to and it wasn't actually that bad until the bandits attacked. There were so many of them! I thought they were an army, but looking back they hadn't a drop of dignity between them. I tried to get out of the way but this brute of a man knocked me down and was standing above me, looking all menacing and then suddenly he had a sword and…' he broke off, simply gesturing the mess of dried blood that used to be his face to finish his sentence. Then something changed, like a repressed emotion brought to light. Merlins face changed into one of pure horror, and his eyes, well, eye glassed over in remembrance as he continued to talk at rapid speed. 

'I've been in battles before, and you'd think I'd be used to them by now, but I've never seen anything like that. They're just boys…They didn't deserve…'  
'...Merlin?'   
'The bandits rounded the boys up, started the fight, but they were so vicious. They…they cut a boys hand off, and still taunted him to fight! They ran their blades into any open surface, ears, eyes, mouths…it was a massacre. I can't just un-see it. It's there when I close my eyes…eye. You know, at least bloody Arthur fights with pride! He kills with dignity! This was ruthless! They didn't care who these boys were, they were savage! They kept on cutting and killing and slaughtering!'   
Merlin's voice had risen into a choked cry, repressed sobs shaking him slightly as he forced his eyes shut, remembering the blood, the blades, the boys. 

Gwaine sat across from him, aghast and shaken. He swallowed, and reached out a comforting hand which came to rest on Merlins wrist, forcing his tremors to stop, and his breathing gradually began to slow. 

'It sounds like you were lucky to come out of there alive, my friend.' 

The boy shot a furious look at Gwaine; 'Lucky? You think I'm lucky! I can't see out of one eye! I have my own blood smeared across my memory. I can barely step outside my own chambers without fear of judgement! I have the screams of fifty dead boys echoing in my dreams. I'm not the lucky one. Taking a shaky breath, Merlin looked up into his friend's eyes, expecting at least pitying gaze or a shocked response but instead Gwaine was frowning, and it took him a while before he realised that the man was actually thinking about something. 

After a few moments of bemused silence, Merlin ventured 'Er…Gwaine?' 

'Sorry, sorry mate, it's just…I knew this girl once…' 

Merlin snorted 'I think you've known quite a few girls in your lifetime' 

'Oh ha ha. But this girl was…special. She wasn't one of those 'damsel in distress' types, she went out there and did stuff, I mean, the first time she met me, she nearly beat me in a bar fight until I ripped her dress...' 

Mouth twitching at the sight of Merlins exasperated gaze, Gwaine continued 'total accident of course! Anyway, she was a good little fighter, until she got in over her head. She got on the wrong side of this big bloke, owed him far too much money, and ended up facing him and two of his friends in an alleyway at midnight. They caught her of course, and although her face wasn't half as bad as yours, I don't think I ever saw her smile again since that night'.

Merlin frowned 'Yeah, and…' 'And you came in here and started talking ten to the dozen, made a couple of terrible jokes and grinned like a drunken squirrel when I fell in that pig sty last night. You're still Merlin, same as ever. So what if you look like the back end of peasants arse at the moment? The cuts will heal and you'll be looking all pale and underfed again in no time! So…you feel better now?' 

He grinned at his friend expectantly until '…the back end of a peasants arse? Wow, Gwaine! I really feel so much better about myself now!' 

Hurtling himself across the room, Merlin yanked open the door furiously, only to find himself nose to nose with a certain Queen of Camelot, shaking on Gwaines doorstep in her only nightclothes, tears shining in her eyes and a gasp on her lips.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weakness is a Kingdoms greatest Weakness...

'Gwen…but what were you…were you listening?' 

Clasping her hands awkwardly in front of her and refusing to meet the eye of either one of her companions, she nodded slowly, embarrassment evident in her features.  
'I'm sorry Merlin! I saw you crossing the village from the window and I just wanted to check if you were alright! Then I got there and you were talking and I couldn't help it! I just…' 

Suddenly she threw her arms around the startled servant's neck, a large tear dropping onto the back of his scarf as he awkwardly patted her on the back in surprise.   
When she withdrew, she wiped her eyes with a corner of her shawl and said weakly 'sorry…Er…sorry. That wasn't very ladylike, was it?' 

Gwaine snorted softly in amusement, and opened his mouth to reply but suddenly Merlins voice rang out, strong and commanding, loud in the small room as he spoke 'Gwen, listen to me. You're not going to tell Arthur what you heard, what I said, any of it. It wouldn't be right.' 

She frowned at the usually gentle servant, confusion etched across her features; 'but why not? These monsters are still out there and Arthur could…'

'Of course Arthur could go out there and catch them! Of course he's going to want to! He'd rush in there and try to kill them all in one foul swoop! They killed fifty boys, Gwen! They left the only two survivors utterly shell shocked, and me half blind!'  
'Then why can't we tell him?' 

They faced each other now, Merlins face slightly raised above Gwen's as they argued; 'because they'll kill him'.

There it was.  
That one simple sentence that could turn an army away from its grandest battle, and a proud wife away from her crippled friend.   
Yes, Arthur was the greatest King that Camelot had ever known, but, and Merlin cursed himself for even thinking it, sometimes, just sometimes, his big old stupid heart got in the way of his head and blinded him.

It wouldn't matter to the people of Camelot if a lowly palace servant got a bit roughed up in an attack, but if their King was beaten by a group of unruly bandits, it would bring more than shame on their land, it could bring War.

Uther used to say that weakness is a kingdom's greatest weakness. Merlin would always remember it as he truly believed it to be the only useful the late King ever said. 

'You both know Arthur, and you know what he's like. He can never know how bad it was out there, how much it hurt' he smiled slightly 'I'd much rather keep my increasingly cowardly reputation, then have Arthur gain his. Besides, Gwen, you need him now, more than ever. You're the Once and Future Queen at the very start of her reign! I mean, who else is going to teach you which fork to use at dinner and how to properly greet all the royal gits he drags in off the streets?' The Queen smiled fondly at the boy for a moment before lightly squeezing his elbow in agreement.

The gentle teasing lightened had the air considerably, and the rest of the morning was quite enjoyable really.  
Both Merlin and Gwen realised that since her coronation they'd barely spoken, and Gwaine just seemed to like having people around who actually laughed at his jokes.

The traumatic image of his own face was swept out his mind as he sat with his friends, just talking about anything and everything, from the new cook in the kitchens who had taken an obvious liking to Sir Leon to the little old man in the lower town who swore by his sacred cold remedy of horse dung and crushed nettles. And it was with an unwelcome jolt, Merlin realised that he'd been away from his chambers for most of the morning, and considering his near feverish state the previous evening, Gaius was sure to be worried. 

Rapidly throwing his cloak over his shoulders, he said a hurried goodbye to Gwaine and was about to leave when Gwen suddenly caught his arm. Pulling his shoulder down slightly, she pressed a chaste kiss to his nose and whispered 'You're the bravest person I know, Merlin, no matter what my idiot of a husband says' before hurrying up the castle steps. 

Following her with his eyes, he smiled fondly until his mouth ached and he shrunk back into his hood, feeling strangely cold and shivery in the bright morning sun


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Merlin missed his Arthur, so he tore the world apart to get to it...

When Arthur woke up that morning, his first noise was a very loud 'ow!' as a shaft of sunlight burnt through a gap in the curtains, shining into his half- closed eyes. Raising one hand to shield his face, he raised himself up on his pillows and bellowed 'Merlin! Merlin, get in here n…'

The memories of yesterday hit him with an impossible force and, letting silence finish his sentence; he looked around his room, large and empty, and felt smaller than ever in his over-sized bed. A gentle knock on his door drew him out of his own head, and he sat up fully, lazily calling 'come in' as he did, frowning slightly in surprise as Gaius walked in, the disapproving look on his face not quite masking the anxiousness behind it

'Sire, I don't mean to lecture you, but your father would never forgive me if you were killed due to your own laziness! Would it really have hurt to check who was calling upon you at such an hour before simply allowing them into your chambers?'  
He stood beside the bed, arms folded in disapproval at the bemusement of the young Kings face. 

'It isn't funny, Sire.' Arthur's smile faded, but the fatherly tone Gaius had adopted was really quite endearing.

His next words, however, extinguished the happy bubble of reminiscence swelling in his heart, leaving it cold and sickened once more. 

'Now that Merlin is out of action, you either need to start looking after yourself, or start looking for another servant…just temporarily!' he added, as Arthurs eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to argue.  
'I'll do my best to speed up his recovery for you, Sire…though it would be easier if the patient didn't keep running off at every opportunity.' 

Although Gaius' mutter had been under his breath, Arthur's ears had pricked up at this and he said 'What? Merlin's run off? Well, where's he gone? Is he alright?'

Wringing his hands, the old doctor said almost apologetically 'well, Sire, I was rather hoping you could answer that one. He left rather suddenly last night, still in his nightclothes and half delirious from the fever, and I was wondering if perhaps he came up here, or was found by one of the guards…?' 

Arthur frowned in concern 'No, if the guards had found him I would've been told, and the state he was in yesterday, my chambers are probably the last place he'd want to go!' 'Sire…' 

Suddenly they were interrupted by a loud 'Arthuuuuuuuuuuuuuur!' from outside the door.

The two men paused for a moment before frowning at each other, and as Gaius crossed the room, it sounded again; 'Arthuuuuuuuur! Lemme…lemme in!', this time accompanied by a series of half-rhythmic knocks and the shuffling of feet against floor. 

Now sitting up straight in bed, Arthurs jaw dropped slightly as the door opened to reveal an incredibly pale and sweaty Merlin, clinging on desperately to the outer door frame to hold himself up, and upon seeing Gaius, he shouted 'No Gaius! Get out of Arthuuuuuuuuurs bed! S' my job! Go 'way now!' With that he pushed past him into the room, stumbling blindly until Gaius caught him and tried to lower the struggling boy into a seat.

Arthur rushed over to his friend, supporting his other side and guiding him instead over the large bed which he had just vacated. Together, they managed to settle Merlin onto its surface but refusing to lie down, he sat up straight, arms reaching out desperately for something, and when he didn't find it, he began to whine desperately, panting with exhaustion.

'Can't…can't find…where am…I want my…'

'Merlin, Merlin, its Arthur, what do you want?' taking advantage of the distraction, Gaius began examining the sick boy, taking his pulse and temperature rapidly, before throwing Arthur's covers over him and rushing out of the room to fetch some water.   
When Merlin did not respond, and continued to rake petulantly through the air in front of him, Arthur grabbed hold of his hands and gently pinned them to the bed, with a firm 'Merlin, stop it. You'll hurt yourself if you keep flailing around like an idiot! What are you looking for? What do you want?' he asked the last question softly, like a parent would to a crying child, but was rather surprised by the answer. 

'Arthur! When did you get here?'

Apparently Merlin couldn't actually see Arthurs face but he could feel the weight on his hands and grinned drunkenly into thin air, stretching his scar dangerously, before slurring out '…thur? I misssssed yooou' 

Arthur sighed; 'That's nice Merlin, but this is my room. I've been here the whole time! What were you doing outside my door at this time in the morning anyway?'

'S 'um… s' bit complicated…blame Gwaine!' Merlin suddenly gestured wildly at the point where he assumed Arthur sat and cried 'he s…said I had a face like a…he's a girl with hair!' before collapsing back against the pillows. Arthur snorted loudly at this, suddenly picturing his boldest knight flitting through the courtyard in a gown and heels, tossing his hair back dramatically as he walked.   
Allowing himself to enjoy Gwaines mental humiliation for a while, the pair sat in silence, Arthur's large hand gently resting beside Merlins pale one on the bed as he slept, little fingers pressed together.  
Suddenly Merlin's hand twitched and he bolted up shouting 'Back end of a peasants arse!' 

Spluttering, Arthur looked at him in shock and said 'excuse me?'  
Gaius walked back into the room then, carrying a large pail of water which, thinking about it, the King probably should've offered to take off him, but was more preoccupied with the rambling boy on the bed.

Sinking back slowly, Merlin allowed the doctor to tend his brow but continued to talk 'Gwaine! He said my face looked like the back end of a peasants arse!'

This time Arthur let out a full laugh, quickly shutting up at the look on Gaius' old face, but smirking quietly before; 'hang on!'   
Both men looked at him inquiringly…well, Merlin tried to but ended up looked dazedly towards a cupboard that supposedly looked like him.

'Gwaine called you 'the back end of a peasants arse?'…but surely, that's still an arse? There is no back end to it! Listen, Merlin, if Gwaine can't even insult you properly, don't let him try, alright?' he smiled encouragingly, trying to pull the boys focus onto him but his eyes had already closed and his head drooped, hair tousled and sweaty in his sleep.

Gently Gaius said 'I'll call the guards to take him home' and got up to leave but Arthur stopped him; 'No. Let him stay here. I'll make sure the guards check in on him regularly, but if we move him, he might wake up, and looking at him…' 

The old man smiled 'Yes, he certainly needs his sleep. Very well Your Highness, I shall call back in on him later' and left, casting a final look at the King and his servant before closing the door behind him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Witchhunt begins...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick little note: if you any of you were wondering, I've always imagined King Boltor to resemble Uncle Vernon almost...and if you don't know who he is then GO and read, child!!! :)

Rising softly from the bed, Arthur gently touched one hand to the top of Merlins head and said 'I'll be back soon. Don't do anything stupid whilst I'm gone, yeah?' before swiftly getting dressed and stalking out of the room, calling for an assembly of the Knights as he went.

'This is getting out of control!' Arthur cried slamming his hand down on the table and feeling more like his father than he'd ever done before. For some reason, this knowledge empowered him, and he allowed his anger to take control.  
'3 bandit attacks in one month! 3! And judging by the vague descriptions the survivors gave, all from different kingdoms!'

'Young Hamish Turner informed us that the bandits they faced had the insignia of Cenreds kingdom on several of their bags and came at them from the East' Leon looked down sadly for a second before continuing; 'he died of fatal injuries shortly after we spoke to him'.

There was a respectful hush before Arthur said musingly 'these bandits were well organised, they knew exactly who they were attacking and why. They never stole anything from the victims, it's almost like they were leaving a message, a threat! A test for the new King…' a tense silence filled the hall, all eyes trained on Arthur, doing what he does best and standing up for his people, it was almost like a performance on a stage. 

'I'm not going to let anyone else die for me at the hands of these monsters. If they want to fight me, they can do it face to face instead of through my men. I'll ride at dawn. Merl…err you there! Ready my horse'. 

Several of the Knights had flinched slightly at Arthur's mistake, accustomed to the given agreement that in the King's books; 'me' means 'Merlin and me'. The hall felt larger without the boy's anxious presence, always hovering over Arthurs shoulder, just in case. 

However it rapidly shrank again as the doors burst open and a crying young woman was flung into the room unceremoniously, landing with a crack on the stone flags, burying her face in her hands as she fell. Shocked, two of the Knights immediately went to her side and attempted to lift her, but an irate King Boltor followed the girl in and stopped them both with a shout; 'Leave her alone! The disgusting creature!'

Striding over to the scene, Arthur looked down at the woman, the girl, sobbing desperately into her skirts at their feet, and said firmly 'guards, take her outside to calm down. Find my wife if you can, she may be able to get something out of her'. 

When they done so, he turned sharply to the furious King Boltor and said 'forgive me, your Grace, but what could that girl have possibly done to offend you so?'

Boltor's face had turned almost puce with supressed rage, and considering his obvious lack of physical fitness, and over-sized gait, Arthur began to worry slightly about the man's poor heart. 'Offend me? OFFEND ME? That brat of a girl was found in your chambers, Arthur!' 

Paling slightly at the thought of Merlin being found in his bed, he said, a little breathlessly 'My…my chambers? When...I mean, What on earth could she have been doing in there?' 

'Sorcery, my Lord' Boltor snarled, reminding Arthur so vividly of Uther that any sense of pride he'd felt before withered under this angry portrayal of his father. Taking Arthurs expression for one of horror, the old King leered 'Oh yes, boy. My guards found her lurking outside your room, whispering things…strange things, and when they caught her she fought like a dirty little alley cat, shrieking about some sick boy that she was trying to heal. Ought to swing if you ask me.' 

Arthur swallowed nervously; how could the girl possibly know about Merlin's fever? Why would she try to heal him?

'Ah, I see. Thank you, Lord Boltor, for bringing this to my attention. The matter will be dealt with as soon as possible. You are all dismissed' he said gruffly, itching to get back to check on his patient, to see what damage the girl had done.

Boltor cast him a fierce look and said 'I know what your father would've done, Arthur, as do you, I'm sure...' before turning on his heel and striding out, followed by the rest of  
the Knights.   
Quickly slipping out through the servant's passageway before anyone noticed, the King stalked down the corridor, coat flapping behind him, and slipped past the guards back into his chambers.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magic, and Merlins, and Mystery...

'Merlin! Merlin, you have to wake up, now!' he hissed, rushing over to the bed and throwing back the covers. The boy was still asleep, clammy and paler than before; perhaps the girl hadn't been trying to heal him after all. 

Shaking his shoulders gently, he tried to pull the servant out of the bed but he wouldn't be moved. At the slightest pull, Merlin would give a pitiful moan, fingers tightening around Arthur's shirt as he screwed up his face in pain.  
'Yes, yes, yes, I know it hurts now, but you've really got to get out of here or we'll both be in trouble!' Giving a frustrated cry, he roughly lifted the boy over his shoulders and hurried into the room at the back of his chambers. 

He made to lay Merlin down on a blanket on the floor and leave, but sudden heavy footsteps stopped him in his tracks. Furious breathing echoed in the room as Arthur watched King Boltor storm around the room through a crack in the old wooden door.

'Search every inch of the room. We need to know what that…thing was doing in here!' he spat, motioning furiously for his guards to spread out. One of his accompanying knights leant over to whisper something but was met by a fierce bark of 'I don't care what the sodding King has to say about it! Olaf wants all sorceress' of Camelot and damn it, we're going to give them to him!' 

Retreating back into the darkness of the room as a guard approached, Arthur dashed over to Merlin, clamping one hand gently over his mouth to still the panicked breathing the boy was emitting, and another over his own. Pulling them both back into the shadows as the door opened and light spilled into the room, the young King felt his heart stop. 

Luckily, the guard seemed to be as dim as he was broad and with a loud cry of 'nothing here, sire' he left, slamming the door behind him and trekking back into the centre of the room. The same knight that had spoken earlier said timidly 'Your Highness, it seems…whatever the girl was trying to do…we stopped her just in time, didn't we? The room is very much undisturbed and there is clearly no sick boy to be found so…'

With a grunt, Boltor muttered 'yes, yes, very well. Come, let us see if Uther's offspring is all he claims…' and stalked out.

Expelling a long breath, Arthur released his vice-like grip on Merlins shoulder and crept cautiously into the room, satisfying himself that it was empty, before dragging his friend aback in and onto the bed. He was just about to leave when Gwen burst in, breathlessly exclaiming 'Arthur…Arthur!'

'What is it? What's wrong?' 

She gripped his hand and cried 'she's a druid. Just like that boy, Mordred, she came to help Merlin! You can't let her die! She's only a girl!'

'She wants to help Merlin? How on earth could she know about the fever? I only found out this morning, it's hardly public news!' 

Gwen paused for a second and said softly 'I don't know'.  
They both looked over at the sleeping boy and back to each other. 'Let me go and speak to Gaius, he might be able to tell us a bit a druids...see if this girl really was trying to heal him' Arthur said firmly, taking both of his wife's hands in his own and gently steering her out of the door. After escorting her back to her chambers, he checked with the guards and set off for the Physicians chambers.

 

With a sudden gasp escaping from his lips, Merlin cracked one bleary eye, hand lazily searching the space next to him for a goblet or tumbler of water. When all he found was an  
endless sea of mattress and duvet, curiosity got the better of him and slowly sitting up, he found himself not to be resting in his own small, solid bed, but on the all too familiar royal sheets of King Arthur himself. 

'Arthur…?' he called out cautiously, the rasp in his voice reminding him of his thirst and, fighting off the exhaustion threatening him to drag him down, he slowly clambered out from under the heavy sheets.  
After tripping around the room for a few minutes, he eventually found a half goblet of water, and not caring whether it was his or Arthur's, he swigged it down eagerly. 

Suddenly, with his quest completed, confusion took over and he began to call 'Gaius…? Gwen…? Anyone…?' He sat down on the edge of the bed, tugging absent mindedly at the frayed tip of his scarf, muttering 'but why would I be in Arthurs bed? Am I not meant to be in here, or am I not allowed to leave? Wish he wouldn't do this, just walk off and let the sick boy figure it out. And my face hurts! Not that anyone cares…' he finished sulkily. 

Finally calling off his one-sided debate with Arthur's silent door, he ambled into a pair of boots that had been left by the bed and cautiously popped his head into the silent corridor. Nothing. No guards protecting him, no worried Gaius making sure he was undisturbed, no worried Gwen, no angry Arthur…how the hell did he get here?

He began striding down the corridor, fully intent on heading home when voices echoed from around the corner; 'I don't care what your wife says, the girl confessed! She admitted to being a druid and trying to enchant your chambers! All this nonsense about sick boys, she's a liar and menace. Uther would've had her excecuted at dawn…' 

With a sudden gasp of pain as his wound rapidly reminded him of it's presence, Merlin clamped a careful hand over his mouth and scurried back into the safety of his master's  
chambers. 

Arthur's unwavering tones rang out from outside the door, irritated and blunt; 'I am not my father. And I think you would do well to accept that, Boltor. This is my kingdom  
and I shall rule it how it see fit. Clear? Now I believe the girl to be innocent, and innocent she will be' A stunned silence followed before a subdued grunt replied and heavy footfalls stomped away down the corridor, Arthur's only stopping to mumbled to a nearby guard about the release of the prisoner.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daddy Issues and War Games...

As Merlin poked his head around the door one more, he was greeted by the lone figure of Arthur leaning heavily against one wall, knees bent slightly and one gloved hand rubbing tiredly across his face. With a deep sigh, he turned suddenly and caught sight of the pale face watching him from inside his chambers.

'Merlin!' Clearing his throat uncertainly, Arthur strode towards the boy, arms folded pleasntly behind his back but a frown forcing his eyes to narrow slightly. 'You're certainly looking better!'   
Gently pushing him back into the room, a tight smile pulling at his lips, Arthur began to babble suddenly about the events of the previous night, all the things Merlin couldn't remember and probably didn't want to.

 

'…And then you suddenly sat up again, shouting something about Gwaine and peasants arses' or something, it was quite amusing really. Then you passed out again, and I couldn't very well move you then, could I? You just had to go and be so stubborn and heavy…'   
Merlin smiled ruefully but said nothing. Catching his eye, Arthurs faced loosened considerably and said, a touch softer this time, 'well…you know, I suppose people have to be nice to their servants once in a while, they might revolt otherwise and then where we would be? '

He knew Arthur didn't really want an answer but there was still the tension in the air, the unspoken friction passing between them unpleasantly, the subtle clenching of his fist at the word 'servant'. Yes, he was still Arthurs servant, he was still the big eared idiot who could barely lift a sword let alone weild it, and he was still the peasant boy who'd grown far too comfortable in the stocks, but he'd become so close to being more than that.

The words 'I choose you' should've rung in his ears, the immense pleasure of finally being chosen rather than forced, the oppurtunity to actually be something, be someone of importance to Camelot, but they were crushed and swept away by the cruel mantra of 'worthless servant', the stinging pain of 'you think that you're my friend but you're not!' and worst of all, Arthur's one chance to be honest and true to him blown away by written words and, in Merlins eyes, an absense of heart. 

Which is probably why he answered with this; 'Where would you be? Oh I don't know, dressing yourself, cleaning for yourself, acting like an adult for once?' 

A menacing glint flew into his eyes as he growled 'writing your own speeches?'.

Arthur flinched. Merlin had risen, hackled raised like an angry dog, scar stretching angrily as he spoke, and, towering over Arthur, he'd delivered the final blow.

The King knew the air hadn't cleared and he knew why, but somewhere in the back of his head, a little voice began cried 'ungrateful boy! You let him sleep in your bed! You took care of him! He should be thanking you, not accusing you!'.   
Merlin continued to glare at him, chest rising and falling rapidly, hot breath skimming across the top of his head until suddenly 'Merlin, stop, you're behaving like a child!' 

Ok, he thought, so maybe that wasn't the most tactful repsonse… His point was proven when Merlin suddenly span on his heel, coating tail lightly whipping the side of Arthur's face and made to leave.

'Merlin, are you really going to keep walking out on me everytime I try to make conversation? What do you want? Do you want me to get down on my knees and apologize to my servant for making him sad?' his voice seemed to have adopted a horrible mocking tone without his permission, but now he'd started, he couldn't seem to stop. Apparently Merlin shared this problem as soon they were nose to wounded nose in the middle of the room, bellowing into each others faces;

'Not just a child, a spoilt jealous child!'

'Better than a stuck up, arrogant fool!'

'Fool am i? Oh you're one to talk! How did you get that scratch again? Trying to pick a flower?'

'Do you actually think when you talk? Or have you got someone censoring it behind my back?'

'How dare you talk to me like that! I'm the King of…'

'Yeah, the sodding King of Camelot, I know. Gwen knows. Gaius knows. The horses probably know. We all know, but we don't care so you can stop pulling rank on us whenever you feel your ego needs a boost!'

'I ought to throw you in the dungeons by your ears! That's if theres a cell big enough for them!'

'Getting personal now are we, Arthur Big Belt Pendragon?'

'Don't they teach respect in Ealdor, or are you just deaf to any intelligent noise thrown at you?'

'Well I certainly don't hear any from you! How many royal tutors quit because of you? 8? 9?'

'At least I had tutors. At least I had money enough to keep me out of that pig sty you call a home!'

'Don't you dare! Don't you even dare talk about my home!' Merlins face had turned scarlett with rage, and Arthur noticed with a sharp spike of vindictive pleasure that his fist was clenching at his side.

'Why not? What do you plan to do to me? Throw a hay bale at me? Get daddy to hit me with a broken broom handle? Oh wait…' He pulled the corners of his mouth down in mock dismay, the pent up anger streaming from his lips and spiralling out of control; '…he can't, can he Merlin?'


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'You hit me once  
> I hit you back  
> You gave a kick  
> I gave a slap  
> You smashed a plate over my head  
> Then I set fire to our bed...'

There was silence. Not even the whisper of breath could be heard. Merlin had frozen, eyes wide in shock. Arthur had strolled away from him and now leant against the table, arms folded smugly across his chest, waiting and watching, judging his next movement.  
Suddenly, the boys head turned sharply and with a gaze so intense it seemed to burn, he curled his lip and said slowly 'Oh Arthur, you have no idea. Your father didn't…' but then he stopped. The gaze dropped to the ground, and though he hadn't moved from the spot, his head seemed to be somewhere else altogether. 

But Arthur wanted this. He needed Merlin to shout at him, to abuse him, to fight back. It wasn't fair if he didn't. It wasn't right. It made him…it made him equal to the bandits that had attacked his men, his…his Merlin.

'My father didn't what? Didn't love me? Didn't care for me? Oh please, as if I haven't heard that one before. You're getting slow, Merlin…' 

SMACK!

At first Arthur flinched, ducking his head and closing in on himself, fearing arrows or stones flying at him from all directions. A life time of battles and attacks had trained him well. But not well enough apparently, as even though he felt no pain or heard any cry, his arms remained firmly over his head until a soft 'Arthur. Arthur you're alright. No one shot you'. 

An awkward shuffling of feet confirmed Merlins presense, quelling any doubts that he had fled at the distraction or been injured himself. He didn't leave him. 

Raising his head, but steadily avoiding Merlins eyes, he barked 'what the hell was that? Did you, did you see anything? Did something fall or…' 

'No. Nothing fell.' 

Glancing round at the boy, there was an almost tearful edge to his voice, frightened even.

'Then what was tha…' His sentence faltered. His jaw dropped. It was impossible.

 

No. The only concious thought Merlin had during the time after the argument was 'no'. It wasn't meant to happen like this. Not through hate and hurt and battle. No. For a moment, he just stood there, watching Arthurs face as he took in the sight before him. 

His bed, his cupboard, his curtains, his bookshelf, everything was burning. Burning furiously, a roaring raging fire that engulfed everything it touched.   
Every item on the left side of Arthurs room was being burnt to ash as he watched. 

But it wasn't. 

The fire burnt, but there was no smoke, no dust, no ash. It didn't smell, it wasn't hot, it didn't leave a trace. It was just there. Like magi.c 

'How is it doing that? What's going on? What did you do?' Arthur simply gasped at Merlin, gesturing wildly to the furnace billowing around them.

'Arthur, I can't…'

'It's not even burning it! It's barely touching it! That's not even possible!'

Letting out a long, shaky breath, Merlin replied 'Oh yes it is. Arthur you have to listen to me…' his voice was weak and tired, exhausted and strained against the vicious lump forming in the back of his neck, fighting the tears that threatened to pour openly out of his eyes and down his cheeks. 

But Arthur just said 'Magic. You have magic.'

It wasn't a question. It was flat and brief. The shortest sentence and the cruelest.

With a whisper, the warlock said 'yes' and twisting his fingers together anxiously, he dared to look up into the Kings eyes, fearing what he might see there; fury, betrayal, disgust…fear? Could Arthur actually be scared of him? But the blue eyes staring back at him revealed nothing but confusion.

A few seconds of silence passed before 'turn off the fire. Please.'   
This sudden plea jolted Merlin back into his brutal reality and with a hushed 'Asshemie' the fire faded into the air, leaving the room whole and unscorched again. Cautiously patting the bed for underlying heat, Arthur sat down heavily on the matress, throwing his head forward and covering his face with his hands, shoulders hunched and tense.

He'd gone over this conversation in his head a thousand times. Two thousand maybe. But there was no garuntee as to what Arthur would do. He'd mentally prepared himself for  
metaphorical executions, exiles, promotions, surprise, hurt, betrayal, anger, imprisonment, awkard questions, reluctant truths, and he knew that these were still a possibility, but  
somehow, today, he knew that he wouldn't be spending his night with his head on a block or his feet on pyre. They'd gone through too much for that. Far too much.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversation Closed.

'Arthur, I know this is a lot to take in, so basically I'm just going to talk and tell you as much about it as I can and if you want me to stop then just say so, and if you want to ask me  
something then just interrupt me, I won't mind. I promise'. 

The King nodded slightly, still curled up over the edge of the bed as if he might be sick at any minute. Forcing the thought of Arthurs possibly repulsion to the back of his head, he sat down and talked.

He told him about his mother, his friends, Will. His wrenched heart twisted painfully at Arthurs instinctive glance at Merlin when he reached Will's sacrifice. 

There was accusation in there. A lie. A good friend. 

But he carried on anyway; 'Do you remember, um, the druid girl, a few years ago?'  
Forcing his eyes upward, and swallowing hard he said painfully 'the girl with, with the curse. The one that escaped…' 

When Arthur gave no sign of recognition, he forced out 'the beast that you slayed in the courtyard after the gargoyle fell…yeah, her. You, er, you definetly killed her. I know that. I held her in my arms as she died. I saved her from the slave trader. I fed her. I loved her. I held her' another glance, this time, a tiny spark of pity echoing in the dark irises.

Then Arthur spoke, sounding for all the world as if he'd never spoken in his life, or he'd been silenced for many years, but the words he said were all new to Merlin; 'I killed her?

Looking at Arthur carefully he nodded. 'And…that's why you were quiet. You were all funny and sad. You wanted to clean my boots three days in a row. You volunteered to muck out the stables. You stole Morgana's dress…'

'Yes' was all he could say. Another pause before 'go on'. He took a deep breath and said 'She wasn't the only one. Her, Will, Balinor.'   
This time Merlin glanced to Arthur, gauging his reaction carefully.

'The dragonlord who died. Who died saving my life when we were attacked. Before we left, Gaius came to speak to me about him.'  
Giving a watery laugh, he said 'he's my father! He was my father.' There was a pause. 

The dead voice of Arthur rang out again 'I told you not to cry'.

Shaking his head softly at him, he said quietly 'you didn't know. It's alright. I blame you for nothing.' And then they said nothing. The dimmer, more easily confused part of Merlin's head suddenly procured one of Gaius' useless teachings for him; 'Silence in golden'. But no it's not. This was a horrible, prickly silence. This was the final blow of a battle that had run for so long, no one knew quite how to survive without it. This was the final blot of ink at the end of the parchment that could spell both imminent death and blinding success. It hurt.

Merlin had already decided that Arthur had received enough shock for one day, Morgana and Aithusa and Kilarggh could wait for another day. He couldn't think about them anymore today. Too much guilt. Too many scars. He knew he was taking a liberty, by keeping these from Arthur still, but he just couldn't. 

Arthur suddenly sat up on the edge of the bed and stretched, before walking stiffly over to the window, watching the setting sun over the hills.

Tentively, Merlin stood up behind him and said 'Sire, it's getting late. Do you wish me to continue talking or…'

'No. We can talk tomorrow, I just…I need to think. You're dismissed' 

The boy nodded, backing away from the King and towards to door. He'd not quite placed a hand on the door knob when Arthur called after him; 'why?'.

He turned round slowly and asked 'why what?' Still staring determinedly outside, Arthur continued quietly 'why didn't you tell me? I understand that whilst my father reigned, there was no chance of your safety, but I'm the King, Merlin. You know every inch of my life. You know everything and everyone I've ever faced, and you've probably saved me from about half of them. I've risked my life for you. I'd probably still risk my life for you, and I know you'd do the same. You should've told me.'

'Arthur, I…'

'No. You should've told me'.

Conversation closed. Nothing more to be said.


	15. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirror, mirror, on the wall...I don't think I can look in you. Not ever. Not at all.

'Arthur…' Gwen asked anxiously the next morning. 'Arthur, are you alright? You're very quiet.' 

The silence stretched over the long table between them as her husband slumped in his seat, eyes red and tired, face drawn.

With a sudden jolt he sat up again, as if his brain had only just registered the company, and shaking his head slightly,he said gruffly 'No 'm fine, just thinking'  
'About what?'  
Raising his drowsy eyes to meet his wife's, he muttered 'everything'.

She sighed resignedly. 'Arthur, stop it. You can tell me these things, you know, I'm hardly going to spread them round the castle, am I?' 

Suddenly, Arthur rose from his chair and stiffly walked the length of the room to her chair and knelt beside it. Lifting one hand gently to his lips he whispered 'of course I trust you' and kissed it softly.   
She grasped his other hand desperately and said 'then tell me, please'. 

Gazing up at her honestly, he swallowed and said breathlessly 'I don't know what to do, Gwen. I really don't.'

She looked at him in silence for a few moments before rising and pulling him up as well. Clutching at his left hand she gently pulled him out of the room and into her chambers. Sitting him down on the bed and leaning into his side, she murmured 'talk. I'm not going anywhere. Just talk.'

He hesitated, glancing at his wife's earnest face and then suddenly everything he didn't even know he wanted to say was tumbling out of his mouth, fast and rapid like the arrows he'd feared the night; 'I just…I don't know which…thing to sort out first. I'm the King, I'm meant to know what to do! I mean, father, he would've dealt with the bandits in the woods in an instant. Sent men out there, sent me out there and eradicated the problem in an instant! Then there's Boltor, storming round like an aggravated bear, trying to behead any and all women to cross his path, all because of some hideous scheme Olaf has planned that I haven't even tried to sort out yet. And then there's Merlin, sitting there all battle-scarred and mournful, trying to play all innocent and wounded, casting bloody spells left, right and centre, telling me that I killed his friend and his dad and his girlfriend, being all nice and horrible and then, then there's Gwaine being horrible to him so I have to go and sort that out, and then there's you sitting here worrying about me, and…' he broke off, looking past Gwen to the window, and whispered 'Gaius. I bet Gaius knew. He knew and he never told me. Why? Why do they keep lying to me? They all try so hard to protect me, and they all lie!' 

His voice had risen now, and at the sudden shout, Gwen flinched, causing Arthur to draw back, inspecting the woman before him, yet again, as if he'd only just noticed her presence.  
Her face was horribly pale and her mouth hung open in shock as she mouthed the words 'Merlin's a sorcerer' before pressing her hand gently to her mouth and looking  
away, eyes flitting in confusion. 

Arthur awkwardly ran a hand through the back of his head and confirmed 'yeah…yeah he is. A nice one, though…I hope'.

'But how…when…why didn't he tell us?'

Looking down at his lap, he answered genuinely 'I really don't know. Maybe he was just scared…' Gwen looked at him in disbelief; 'scared of you? You?' 

Leaving that terrible thought lingering in his mind, she stood up then and said 'Arthur, I think you know what you need to do; talk to Merlin. Really, just talk to him. If  
you let him walk out of your life, then where will you be?' 

With the fight from last night still fresh in his mind, he answered 'writing my own speeches probably' but with a small laugh, Gwen lay her hands on his shoulders and kissed the top of his head before saying 'If you need me, I'll be in the village. I feel a slight headache coming on and a long walk with my favourite physician might be just what I need.'  
She smiled, and brushing her hand lightly across Arthurs shoulders she left the room, dress fluttering easily in the breeze.

 

Merlin had been cooped up in his chambers all morning and was utterly bored. Gaius was busy stewing various foul smelling herbs in various foul smelling vials at his  
bench and refused to be distracted claiming that his 'lovers tiff' with Arthur could wait until after he'd finished saving the world one peasant at a time…or words to that  
effect, so Merlin had sat, slept and sulked on every available surface in the room before finally deciding to flip through his spell book, moodily attempting any enchantment  
with the word heal in it, in hope of somehow fading his scar or at best, easing the pain a little. Nothing worked. Not one single spell.

He'd practically glued himself to his recently fixed mirror, trying desperately to find any sort of change or contrast, but it was still there, mutilating his face, sharp and blunt. 

Suddenly hearing Gaius shuffle back into the main room, having vacated it earlier in hope of secreting some fresh milk from the kitchens, Merlin flung the mirror under the bed and clutched at his book in what he hoped looked like an ordinary lounging position. It probably didn't. 

But when he listened carefully, two voices rallied in the small central room, Gaius' and Gwen's, and with a soft groan, Merlin realised they were discussing him.

'Arthur's practically gone into shock over this, Gaius! How could Merlin not tell him? They tell each other everything! They go everywhere together!' 

Peeking through a gap in the door, trying desperately hard not to stand on the creaky floorboard situated somewhere beneath his feet, Merlin saw Gaius made a small 'shhhing' gesture with his hand and pointed up the wooden staircase to his room. Gwen cast it a cursory glance, and although her stony expression didn't change, her voice was several decibels lower when she next spoke; 'More to the point, how did Arthur not notice? All those times he'd fallen unconscious or been injured, I mean, did he really believe he slayed a dragon whilst half-unconscious? He was so proud…' 

She clutched the back of a chair tightly, steadying herself against for a few seconds whilst Gaius' looked on, before straightening up and saying 'Anyway, Arthur wants to talk to the idiot in person, so would you mind awfully accompanying me for a walk before he gets here? It would only be for half an hour or so…?' 

The old man smiled and reached for his long coat, 'of course, my Lady. It would be an honour'. Merlin shrank back into his room as they left, sitting down on the bed, deep in thought. Arthur was coming here? To talk to him?

He expelled a worried breath, and fidgeted his hands nervously in his lap for a moment before shuffling into the next room, wanting to look busy when the King arrived.

He wouldn't disturb a busy man, surely?


	16. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scared to try...

Yes, was the honest answer. 

Arthur had strode in, taken one look at Merlin carefully bottling heaps of shredded nettle before taking the vials out of his hand, placing them roughly on the bench and forcing Merlin into a chair by his shoulders.

'Right...so err…right. You are a sorcerer.' He said, folding his arms and pacing before him. 'Warlock' Merlin quickly corrected, glancing up nervously. When the King frowned at him imploringly, he continued; 'well, a sorcerer chooses to practice magic, warlocks are born with it. We can't help it'.

Sitting down heavily in Gaius' chair, Arthur said 'that was going to be my next question.'

Suddenly he stood up again, frustrated, running his hands through his hair and stomping round the chamber again; 'Ok, ok, ok so you have magic. Gaius knows. Will knew. Freya knew. Balinor knew…anyone else? Did Morgana know? Gwaine? Leon?'

Carefully averting his eyes at Morganas name, he shook his head and said 'Only my mother. Oh and Lancelot, he…accidently found out one day'. The King span round suddenly, exclaiming 'Lancelot? Lancelot knew before me? How?'

Merlin grimaced. 'It's complicated, Art…Your Highness' Scowling Arthur muttered 'oh please don't start that again! So you go around, every day, saving Camelot all by yourself, slaying dragons, killing griffins and evil snakes and such, and you just left me to take all the glory?'

Biting his lip awkwardly, Merlin sighed 'I don't quite slay dragons, I sort of…talk to them, and they talk back…' he broke off at the horror struck look on Arthurs face.

'It was you! You let that bloody dragon into Camelot!' Merlin stood up hurriedly 'No, I didn't, Arthur you have to believe me!' he took a deep breath and said '…it was already in Camelot. It'd been there for a few years actually. It called to me and I found it in a cave under the castle. He's been quite helpful over the years actually, but then the sleeping sickness struck and I needed to know what to do, but this time he refused to help without a sacrifice.'

Shutting his eyes desperately, he sighed 'that wasn't the only sacrifice I made that day'.

When he opened them again, Arthur face swam into view, looking decidedly unimpressed. 'Merlin, stop being so bloody cryptic and just tell me'.

He swallowed. 'Camelot would've fallen, I had no choice! The dragon demanded that in return for a cure to the sickness, I must grant him his freedom' he glanced up, gauging the Kings reaction at the first half on his news before continuing.

'There was nothing I could do, my magic didn't work against it, the enchantment was incredibly powerful! I had to agree! But…' he shook his head softly and whispered 'I didn't…I had no…it had to be…'

'Merlin!' Arthur cried 'For god's sake, stop muttering and just tell me!'

'It was Morgana. She was the carrier of the enchantment. She was causing it. That's why she wasn't sick. Everyone she touched got sick and she couldn't stop it. She didn't know that she was doing it! It was before…' he added at the look on his companions face. 'Anyway, Kilarggh, that's the dragon by the way, he told me that the only way to cure everyone was to eradicate the source of the power. So' another deep breath 'I poisoned Morgana.'

'You poisoned Morgana?' Looking down at Merlins crushed form, the words felt dirty and distasteful on his lips, completely out of context when discussing his gentle manservant. 'That's impossible.' 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! But you would've died fighting those knights! I had to act!'

A sudden burst of anger hit him and he shouted 'who were you to decide that? Who are you to fight my battles? You let me think that I was something incredible! You let me think that I was better than everyone else!'

'YOU ARE!' He blinked. Merlin had jerked towards him, grasping both arms tightly and almost shaking him, trying to imprint the words into his flesh with his fingers, forcing him to believe it.

'You really, really are! All I did was help a bit, and I know you're angry about Morgana, and you have to know that if there was anything else I could've done, I would've done it in a heartbeat, but it was her or the whole of Camelot, her or Uther, her or you…' 'I'm sorry.'

Merlins tearful babble ceased instantly at the two words he never expected Arthur to say to him again. Dropping his hands to his sides, he looked up in confusion; 'You're sorry?'

'Yes' came the firm reply 'For last night. For what I said about your father. He was a good man.'

'Right...Err…I forgive you?' Merlin was utterly bewildered.

In his head, when he told Arthur about poisoning his sister, he was greeted by steel manacles and a cold stone floor, not a gracious apology from the King of Camelot.

'Merlin, you know that what you did counts as treason?' 'I know but…' 'But…I think that doing so to save my life, my father's life and curing the whole of Camelot kind of cancels it out. So, for now, I propose that we remain silent.'

A sudden spark of hope ignited in the boys eyes as he asked 'you won't say anything?' 'No, and you're not to say anything either; about the magic, about the dragon, about Morgana, not unless you need to. But, Merlin, you have to understand that your magic is restricted now, you can't just use it whenever your arms get tired, or…whenever you get angry with someone.'

Stern blue eyes met his and Merlin blushed faintly beneath his wound 'that's never happened before…I guess you just really, really annoyed me' A tiny twitch of the lips. The closest either of them had come to smiling in the past two days.

'But there's something I wanted to ask you' Servant looked to master inquiringly; 'can't you do anything about your face? I'm not going to lie, it looks awful, Merlin.'

Merlins eyes slid past Arthur to the reflective surface of the dark window on the opposing wall, watching a feather-light finger glide down his scar curiously, soothing it softly.

'Still can't see out of that eye then?' He laughed nervously, Arthur's hand hovering over his chin; 'Scared to try'.

'I have no need for half blind servants so if you want to keep your job, I suggest you do try.'

There a light, jokey tone in his voice, hiding the veiled order, the plea for Merlin to return to him, but he could say was 'I'll do my best, Arthur'.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'I wanna see your peacock..ock...ock...'

An hour after Arthur had left the chambers, beaming from ear to ear, Gaius crept back into the room, quickly scanning it for his shell-shocked ward, but finding no trace of the battle that had surely taken place, he called out into the silence; 'Merlin? Merlin, are you alright? What did Arthur say?'

There was a sudden rustle from the room above when Merlins head popped around the side of the door, looking far brighter than it had done when the physician had left him earlier.

But with a quick 'nothing much' and a nonchalant shrug, he vanished into the depths of his room. Gaius sighed impatiently, feeling more and more like a weary father to a rebellious teenager; 'Merlin!'

There was an annoyed cry from inside the room before 'what?'

'Merlin, what on earth are you doing up there?' He shuffled across the room, and heard the wooden staircase creak loudly as he mounted it.

Suddenly the boy cried 'No, don't come up! Hang on, I'll just…' There was a considerable amount of shuffling from the room above and an ominous thud raised Gaius' eyebrow impossibly high before Merlin carefully edged his way out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind him and hurrying down to greet him.

Suddenly Merlin began to babble; 'so Arthur was here, he said its fine about the magic, he doesn't hate me, he wants me back at work. I'm not dead, who would've guessed?'

'He said its fine?'

Merlin drew in a half breath; 'well…he was angry at first. Really angry. But he's not going to execute me, which is always a good thing, and I still have a job at the palace when I'm ready'

He gave a real smile at this, a fond look in his eyes as he took in the sceptic look Gaius shot at him.

'Really, it's fine. I guess Arthur just finds me too irresistible to execute'; the smile blossomed into a grin, and without even realising it, Gaius grinned back.

Merlin had faced so many years of secrecy, so much fear and desperation because of this one little trait, but Arthur knew. He finally knew. He almost refused to believe it, thinking that at any moment the King would storm into his chambers with an armed guard and order him slain on the spot, but he hadn't. The King of Camelot let a sorcerer live. Amidst the relief, fear and terrifying happiness threatening to overwhelm him, Merlin felt a tiny ray of pride illuminate him. Arthur had stood and watched as his father had killed men, women and children on this charge, he'd even killed a few of them himself, but Merlin was the exception. All he'd done for Arthur had paid off, he'd changed him. Made him better. He'd done his duty. Met his destiny.

He gave an exhilarated sigh before an excited 'squawk!' from his room awakened him to reality again.

Gaius, who'd been watching him fondly for the past few minutes started at the noise, crying 'Merlin, what on earth was that?'

He swallowed; 'Err…well it might be a…large…bird that happened to…fly into my…room…without my help, of course!' The eyebrow jumped again. 'Or…' 'Or it might be a large bird that happened to fly into my room…with my help…' 'Merlin!'

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I don't even know how it happened, I was just in my room trying to fix my stupid face when suddenly this feather flew in the window and landed on my nose…' upon Gaius' disbelieving glance he continued 'well, it landed right on the scar so I thought it might transform into a medicinal paste or dissolve into the wound but…it…didn't'.

Suddenly the door behind them burst open in a flurry of feathers and torn papers, revealing an enormous brown peacock, well, it was mostly brown. The rest of Merlins small room was filled with a gigantic multi-coloured tail, blues and greens and purples dancing with movement, but before either of the men could say anything, it gave a haughty look to Merlin and began to stalk down the steps.

'Its tail is up…' Gaius said curiously. Merlin gave an awkward laugh and said 'Err…it may have been trying to…attract…me'.

Ever the tactile, the physician simply said '…right', clearly fighting an impulse to laugh, but refrained from doing so at one look at the poor boys rapidly flushing face.

 

After a few minutes of half-hearted attempts to chivvy the stubborn bird into the courtyard outside, they eventually decided that a simply immobilisation spell should do the trick, so with a soft 'stithess', the bird froze, its head still cocked inquiringly at Merlin's foreign words.

Together they heaved the heavy peacock out of the door but had only taken a few staggered steps outside before 'BOY!' Heavy footfalls and a sudden snort alerted the servant to King Boltor's presence but maintaining his crouched position over the bird, he did not look up.

'Sire' he greeted, breathlessly.

'What on earth are you doing to that pheasant, servant?' Gaius' knees began complaining as his straightened up to face the man and he said 'Forgive us, Your Highness. The bird in question simply flew in through an open window this morning and…' he paused slightly, watching the King bend down to examine the lifeless creature 'knocked itself out. We were taking it to the paddock in case it woke up in distress.'

Now on direct eye level with the man, Merlin felt the back of his neck prickle as he attempted to shield his face in Gaius' shadow, leaning back against the cool wall behind him.

But with a satisfactory grunt, the King stood up again and began to walk away. But, just as he'd reached the castle steps, he paused and spun on his heel. Ignoring both Merlin and Gaius' confused gazes; he pulled the bird from them and held its chest to his ear, as if checking for a heartbeat.

'Sire what…'

'Thought so…' The King sneered at the bird before dropping it roughly at their feet and standing up again. He began to pace back and forth in front of them, as a tutor would when choosing the correct words to scold their student with;

'So…' he came to a halt in front of them, grabbing Merlins collar and dragging him roughly up to his face.

'Do you fancy telling King Arthur about your fancy spell, my not so pretty little friend, or shall I?'


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most Troublesome Servant In The Kingdom...

Arthur sat rigid in the chair beneath him as he watched the man sobbing pitifully at his feet.

He'd simply been sat, eating lunch in his chambers, wondering whether to invite Gwen to join him when suddenly the door burst open and a breathless guard marched in, saying 'King Arthur, Sire. King Boltor requests your presence in the throne room. He says its urgent.', forcing him to reluctantly abandon his peaceful afternoon and set off down the corridor.

He'd paused outside the door for a moment, straightening up and throwing his shoulders back, readying himself for his grand entrance, but a loud roar from inside swiftly ushered him in.

'Boltor, what's going on? What are you doing…' faltering in shock, he strode to the centre of the room, ignoring the red faced man in front of him, eyes focussed on the struggling boy in his grip. 'Boltor, this is my servant. You will let him go. Immediately.'

When the opposing King did nothing but tighten his grip on Merlin's throat, Arthur gave a raised order of 'now', glowering at the man before him.

'Your Highness, this boy is a traitor to the kingdom! He's been found guilty on the charge of magic!' Sighing irritably, Arthur said 'Guilty by whom?' 'By myself, Your Highness. I found the boy and his physician loitering in the castle, carrying a large bird…'

The King snorted in disbelief; 'You want to arrest my servant on the charges of 'bird carrying'?'

Boltor growled suddenly, urging Merlin towards Arthur by his throat. 'The boy used a spell on the bird! I can prove it! He's a filthy sorcerer, just like the girl!'

Years of over-protective instincts gave Arthur an unwilling advantage as he cried 'Merlin? A sorcerer? The idiot can barely tie his own shoelaces up, Boltor! I mean, you saw him at the feast! And just look at his face, he probably fell over his own feet doing that! My Lord' he spoke with a slightly stricter tone now 'you're here to sign a Treaty, not to go witch hunting. This man is not a sorcerer, now let him go.'

There was a beat.

The opposing Kings locked eyes, dark and angry and a tense silence filled the room, only broken by the pacey sound of heavy breathing, when suddenly Boltor's temper snapped.'NO! NO HE IS A SORCERER! KILL HIM! KILL ALL OF THEM!' he screamed, grabbing Merlin with both hands, trying to ball his fingers into fists around the boy's throat.

'No!' Arthur lunged forward, wrestling with the man's hands, trying to pry them away until suddenly Boltor gave a despairing cry and flung Merlin heavily into his master's arms, sinking to the stone floor beneath them.

Merlin tumbled forward and gave a pant of relief in the embrace as Arthur wrapped a strong arm around his shoulders. They stood like this for a while as Merlin composed himself and after a stern mutter of 'what the hell did you do this time, Merlin', Arthur drew back, quickly checking the boy for bruising, before turning his attention to the King slumped at his feet.

The man was sobbing desperately into his hands, great fat tears seeping out from between his fingers, curled in on himself, as if in pain. Crouching beside him, Arthur laid a firm hand on the man's arm and said gently 'Boltor…what happened?'

Taking a few deep breaths, the older King sat up slightly and moaned 'He took her…took my Anna…took her away from me' 'Who did?' 'Olaf!' the man screamed 'He to…She can't help it, she's a… and he took her! My little girl…' Boltor broke down in tears again as Arthur and Merlin exchanged confused looks.

The latter ventured 'Sire, why did he take your daughter?'

'Because she's magic! Bloody sorceress! Has been since the day she was born…my poor little girl…' The King swallowed and said slowly 'Olaf's daughter Vivian was put under an enchantment in Camelot. A powerful enchantment and he thinks it's changed her. H…he believes it's caused the mental affliction she now suffers from and he wants…' another steadying breath 'he wants the sorcerer found. My Kingdom was ransacked, my people taken…my Anna. But he won't come to Camelot himself. He fears your Army, Arthur, and your Knights. He won't give my Anna back unless…'

'Unless you find the sorcerer and kill them' Arthur finished.

'The coward!' Arthur paced angrily up and down in his chambers. 'The filthy, filthy coward!' 'Arthur…' 'It's blackmail!' 'Yes I know…' 'Getting other people to do his dirty work for him…' Gwen sighed impatiently; 'Arthur! Calm down!'

He shot her a sharp look 'Calm down? Calm down? Gwen, I have literally just found out that my best friend is a sorcerer, and now I'm forced to hunt down and execute the rest of his kind, just in case they enchanted bloody Vivian, and sent her insane. It was two years ago, for god's sake!'

'Best friend?' Gwen raised an eyebrow at him fondly.

Arthur sent her a sharp look in return. 'Ok. Ok. I need to be logical about this. I need to find the bandits. I need to find the sorcerer. I need to…'

'Arthur!' Merlin suddenly burst into his chambers, out of breath, hair ruffled in his haste. 'Arthur, listen. I need to talk to you! It's important' he gave a gasp and clutched a stitch in his stitch. Both Gwen and Arthur rose to help him but he waved them down with a pant of 'No, no. I'm fine'

Sighing pointedly, Arthur bemoaned 'Merlin, you are quite possibly the most troublesome servant I've ever met! You go out hunting with stupid Knights and get your face slashed in, which, by the way still needs medical attention; your lip's bleeding…' The boy glanced up at the King, running a sudden hand along his lower lip as Gwen handed him a handkerchief. 'Then I find out you're a 'warlock' and go out dying for me every day, then you go and get throttled by bloody Boltor, and now you practically collapse in my doorway , the second time this week, I might add, chasing me down the castle corridors and I…' '

Arthur, I know who the sorcerer is!'

There was a bewildered pause, Merlin still trying to catch his breath as his companions simply stared at him, before; '…you?' Arthur snorted in disbelief. 'How would you know who the sorcerer is?'

Affronted, the servant straightened up, staring defiantly into the eyes of his master and said 'I know a lot more than you give me credit for, thank you very much, now do you want me to tell you or not? Because there are many other things I could be doing right…' 'Merlin!'

Grinning as cheekily as he was able to, Merlin hurriedly recounted the story of Trickler and Vivian, tactfully side stepping Merlins mistake regarding Gwen, as all three participants knew how that tale ended, eventually reaching Allineds departure before faltering at the almost manically happy look on Arthurs face.

Cautiously Gwen called 'Arthur…Are you alright?'

Without warning he dashed over to his wife, giving her a beaming kiss on the cheek, exclaiming 'But that's perfect! We don't even need to invade; we just have to get Boltor to tell Olaf! Finally, some good news!' He quickly scurried back to Merlin, giving him an excited shake of the shoulders before hurrying out of the room, calling for a guard to bring Boltor to the throne room immediately.

Still slightly stunned from Arthur's outburst, Merlin turned bemusedly to Gwen and said 'these royals; so temperamental'...

He guessed he deserved Gwen's slap after that.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All mouth and no sword...

Having practically skipped down to the throne room, picking up a still pathetically snivelling Boltor along the way, the buzz of a problem solved was ringing in Arthur's ears as he explained the solution to the visiting King.

'So' he said dryly, forcing the man into a chair at the wooden table; 'I have thought about your current situation, and several solutions have sprung to mind. None of them, however, are dignified, beneficial or suitably chastening to our 'conniving' little King. Fortunately…' Boltor's head rose hopefully towards Arthur, 'my brilliant albeit haplessly inquisitive manservant has recounted poor Vivian's enchanting, and the villainous sorcerer who conducted it'.

Grinning at the astonished look on the poor Kings face, he continued to repeat Merlins story of love potions and warfare, prattling on until 'thank you!' Boltor stood up shakily, a few grateful sobs rattling through his shoulders before throwing his arms around Arthur's torso and holding on for dear life.

After awkwardly removing the crying King from his person, there was a pause before Boltor said 'I… err…I should apologise about your servant. It was wrong of me to question him'.

Taking a small step back, Arthur looked directly into his companion's eyes and said with a small smile 'then maybe it should be him you apologise to, not me. In Camelot, servants are treated as people, not vermin.'

With a slightly embarrassed inclination of the head, Boltor left Arthur alone in the hall, his own words running through his head. His servant wasn't vermin, far from it. Ok…maybe sometimes he was rather weasel-like and sneaky, but he'd expect nothing less from probably the most powerful undercover sorcerer in Camelot! Nether the less, a King cannot rule with the respect of his people, the respect of his friends. And this was Merlin; the friend who'd kill and be killed for him, without a moments doubt or regret.

Suddenly, with the words 'oh, screw it!' echoing in the deserted throne room, Camelot's Once and Future King strode purposely into the courtyard, searching for the one servant in whole of Albion with the ability to make him feel human. His father would be so proud.

Having, yet again, over exerted his serving status and saved Camelot from what was probably going to be a 'fate worse than death', Merlin was slumped over a table in Gaius' chambers, bleary eyes closed and short huffs of breath disturbing the otherwise silent room. Gwen had sent him home with a fond yet loud 'Merlin! Go!' and as Arthur had practically given him an unlimited holiday, might as well catch up on some much needed sleep.

Well. When your master is Arthur Pendragon, your best friend is Sir Gwaine and your guardian is Gaius, sleeping occurs only at night, oh, and when dead.

A loud clamour at the door sent him leaping up with a start, a large sycamore rudely sticking itself to his doze-reddened cheek. Glancing blindly at the noise, he heard a loud bark of laughter before a rough hand yanked the hitchhiker away from his face and dropped it back onto the table. 'Nice to see you too, Merlin…' Gwaine smirked.

Merlin stretched lazily and mumbled 'Afternoon'.

'So…?' Gwaine leaned casually against the wall, pointedly inclining his head at the servant as he posed his question.

Frowning, Merlin repeated '…so?' 'Little birdy told me that you got yourself in trouble with King Boltor and Arthur had to save your worthless backside…again. Very pretty little birdy actually, I might 'accidently' bump into her again…' the Knight laughed.

'Oh that, yeah, Boltor got a bit riled earlier and tried to throttle me but he had his reasons.' Merlins smile wavered slightly but determinedly stuck it out on his scarred face. 'In fact, he probably did me a favour. It's been a bit…awkward between me and Arthur lately but I suppose seeing your servant half strangled to death clears the air a little.'

He gave an odd huff of laughter and looked up at Gwaine, who was staring interestedly out of the window, clearly not listening to Merlin. 'Gwaine!' he cried, throwing his wrists back in exasperation.

Looking round with a grunt, Gwaine grumbled 'Sorry mate, but I am actually hear for a reason this time, not for an in depth chat about your latent loved up feelings for Arthur.' When Merlin scowled, unimpressed, he continued hastily 'Listen, Elyan and Percy were talking the other day and they reckon I'm all mouth and no sword so I need to borrow Arthurs sword; you know, that fancy one he pulled out of the stone? 'Excalibur' or something? So do you reckon you could persuade him to lend me it for a day, an afternoon even?'

Gwaine felt the door shudder noisily behind him as it slammed and he was forced to pace shame faced back to his chambers, empty handed and very annoyed.

Merlins next visitor was an irate Gaius, stumbling in away from the burning sun and muttering something about those 'damn sunburnt children' in the lower village. Technically, he wasn't a visitor in his own home, but he spent so much time tending to those outside the chambers that he lived on his feet and occasionally stayed in the spare bed in the physicians chambers, and today he wanted that spare bed, he wanted quiet and he did not want another Merlin-problem to deal with.

'Merlin?' The boy's cheerful 'afternoon Gaius' did nothing to soothe his mind and he continued to proceed with caution when consulting the injured servant at the table;

'Seeing as you have still maintain all working limbs and most of your head, I assume it went well with King Boltor, and I won't have to risk my job, life and lively hood breaking you out of the castle dungeons…again?'

'Err…'

'And you haven't released a knot of blood-sucking toads into the castle kitchens? Or accidently turned Arthur into a bat?'

Sending an affronted look at the physician, Merlin exclaimed proudly 'actually, Gaius, today your simple, idiotic ward was able to talk himself out of another accusation of sorcery, please his Royal Prattiness and save the life of one Royal Princess. So if you'll excuse me, I was enjoying a nice nap before Gwaine burst in wanting a sword, and you burst in, accusing me of all sorts…'

Gaius gave him a small chuckle before raising his hands in surrender and allowing Merlin to throw his arms back down onto the wooden bench, because obviously, walking the short distance to his chambers would be far too much effort. He'd just settled down peacefully and had allowed his mind to drift into that warm half-conscious state before 'Merlin!'

Leon. Of course, it had to be Leon. It couldn't be Gwen or one of his quieter, politer friends, no, it had to be Arthurs oldest and loyalist Knight, charging importantly through the door and demanding his attention!

Groaning loudly, the servant raised a weary head and said 'what, Leon? What does Arthur want now?'

The man smiled sympathetically and said 'Sorry, Merlin; you're needed in the throne room' before leaving the chambers, with a curt nod to Gaius.

Merlin turned towards his guardian in disbelief and exclaimed 'why? What could he possibly want with me in the throne room? Eurgghhh!' When Gaius did little but shrug and raise his famously judgement eyebrow to the door, Merlin stomped out grumpily, arms folded across his chest in annoyance.

What he didn't see was a certain beaming physician following him across the courtyard, eyes dancing mischievously as he walked...


	20. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'And they all lived...Oh, shut up Merlin!'

'Arthur, he's coming!' Gwen called from the door.

The court stood to attention as Arthur fastened his soft, red cloak around his shoulders, his wife rushing to his side, as they waited for the servant to enter the room.

A grumpy voice boomed into the room before Merlin did, calling 'Arthur Pendragon! I have been on my feet all day! I've been stabbed in the face, half blinded; half throttled and am utterly exhausted! Couldn't you let me have just one day off…' he faltered, taking a hesitant step into the crowded room.

Over fifty pairs of eyes trained upon him and silence filled the hall as the servant glanced around nervously.

'Am I going to be executed? Have I done something wrong? 'Cus I'm having a really bad day, and I'm really not in the mood for dying today…' his flustered babble ceased as he took in Gwen's silent laugh, Gwaines smirking glance and then...then he saw Arthur.

Arthur stood regal and tall at the head of the parted crowd, lips set in a profession line but his eyes were blazing with pride and amusement as he took in the sight of his bewildered friend.

Suddenly the door behind Merlin creaked as Gaius slipped into the room and muttered 'Sorry I'm late. Merlin wanted a final moan before he left…'

Blinking in shock, the servant cried 'So I am going to be executed then! Oh great! That's just what I need!'

'Merlin, shut up!' All heads turned to Arthur as he stepped down from the platform, arms folded smugly, and a great beaming smile spreading across his face. 'Of course you're not going to be executed, as if I'd let that happen! Quite the opposite in fact…'

Merlin frowned at him in confusion. Gaius gave him a gentle push so he stumbled towards the King, as Geoffrey stepped out from behind the throne, a large book in his hands, decked out in his finest ceremonially robes.

'Do you, Merlin of Ealdor, accept the terms of your employment, as written out by King Arthur of Camelot?'

Breathing fast under the firm gaze of the entire courtroom, Merlin emitted a stunned 'Err…wha…what terms?'

Pulling a crisp document from beneath his robes, Geoffrey passed the parchment to a still smiling Arthur, who read it proudly to the room; 'Merlin of Ealdor. Loyal and valued manservant of 2 years to the previously titled Crown Prince Arthur, current manservant and friend…' he paused slightly, glancing up to meet Merlin's eyes with a soft gaze, 'to King Arthur of Camelot for 3 years, the Court of Camelot has discussed the terms of your employment and taken into consideration your steadfast dedication, courage, loyalty, kindness and wisdom. We now feel that a position as a mere servant is inappropriate to a man of such traits, especially upon discovering your talent and skill for 'magic', and would like to reward you with a higher position in the Castle.'

The word 'magic' had elicited several gasps and double takes from the crowd, but Merlin, still standing awkwardly in the aisle, had eyes for no one but his King.

'Therefore, it is my great pleasure to offer you the position of Royal and Personal Adviser to King Arthur of Camelot. Should you choose to accept this position, you would have freedom of speech and opinion in many matters of state and shall be called upon for person consult in any and all issues the King desires. You shall not be judged, nor be treated with any disaffection due to your magical ability, and if you so wish, you may retain some of your serving duties in the Kings chambers. It will be a great advantage and honor to the Kingdom to have you in the Royal Court.'

Arthur finished reading with a flourish and glanced down at his friends face. It seemed that several different emotions were battling across Merlins mind, from disbelief, astonishment and the Kings personal favourite; pure, unadulterated joy.

The boy cleared his throat nervously; 'I…erm…I accept the conditions...I think?'

Geoffrey stepped forward again. 'You will serve Camelot and King Arthur solely and to the best of your ability?'

Stumbling forward, Merlin said 'Yeah, I mean, I will' with a breathless smile.

'Then I hereby appoint you, Merlin of Ealdor; Sir Merlin, Royal and Personal Advisor of Camelot.'

Arthur's smile threatened to split his lips as the applause broke out amongst the room, full and proud clapping from all directions, before; 'Erm…sorry, Geoffrey, can I just ask something, before you do the clapping...thing?'

'Merlin, what are you doing? You can't interrupt a formal ceremony just to ask a question!'

'I know, but Sire, it's important!' the boy held his gaze firmly before Arthur waved a dismissive hand and allowed him to speak.

He grinned nervously at the Court before saying awkwardly 'I just wanted to ask if I could not be 'Sir Merlin', I mean…' he glanced round at his friends faces; 'it's not really me, is it? I'm happier just being Merlin of Ealdor thanks, or…' he looked to Arthur with a smile 'if the King should wish it; Merlin of Camelot?'

There was a tense beat in the hall before Geoffrey questioned 'Sire?'

This time it was Arthur who pulled Merlin onto the platform alongside him and placed one hand on his shoulder before crying 'Royal Court of Camelot. I give you; Merlin of Camelot, Royal Advisor to King Arthur Pendragon!'

And that is how they stayed.

In paintings, in portraits, in scrolls.

King Arthur and Merlin.

The King and His Advisor.

The King and His Warlock.

Standing together in the Royal Throne Room, one hand on one shoulder.

Over the years the scars on Merlins face faded into rumour but their smiles lived on for over one thousand years.

And they all lived happily ever after.

'Dollop head' 'Oh, shut up, Merlin...'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooooo for the first time since the start of the story...and even then I didn't say hello so hello!! Really hope you enjoyed it and yeah so...thank you for reading you lovely lot :) xxx


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